Rise of the Phoenix
by BosBaBe
Summary: Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, this is the story of Ivette the Midland Compound 1000, full of happiness and sorrow, gifts and losses, and ultimately all the pain and struggle she wishes to hide from those that care about her most.


Author Note: This is Ivette's back story in a nutshell, when she was made back in 1902 up until the events and those beyond Lost in Blue, Drowned in Red. Don't worry, reading this won't give too many spoilers at the moment, none at all I think, but when spoilers do show up, I'll warn you of them. But I'll be updating LiBDiR more than this, and no, it will definitely be more frequent than it has been this year. ;) I hope you'll all read this, and come to love the character more for reading this. It should add more depth and light to her, or so I hope. Bare in mind she's new to the world in this, so if she seems a bit babyish, just imagine how you'd feel the moment you just popped into the world. I like to think she's rather cute. 3

Anyways, happy reading!

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><p><span><strong>Rise of the Phoenix<strong>

_Prologue:_

_My name is Ivette. I am a Midland Compound, an engine. And this is my story, for those that care to know it. I keep my memories to myself, bottled up inside, nightmares that no one should have to hear, and wonderful dreams that I keep close to the heart I know I have._

_I can remember back to when it all began. I must have a pretty fucking good memory because I remember every detail, everything that I felt at the time. It was so strange, and unnerving, coming into this world. It was so noisy and busy and I was so afraid, but my creator was there, he was always there for me. I still imagine he is with me now, after all this time, whenever I was alone I was too afraid to imagine he was really gone…_

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><p><span><em>January, 1902 - Derby Works<em>

"Come now big girl, it's time to wake up. All this time it's taken to make you and you want to sleep in? Silly poppet," a gruff voice murmured to her quietly, softly at first but steadily getting louder. She knew she should follow it, but she felt so cold and afraid, should she really?

But the voice was persistent, encouraging her. And slowly but surely she felt life flow into her, the biting chill washed away by a torrent of warmth and heat and vitality. And the noise! The quiet encouragement was soon drowned out by a tidal wave of senseless noise, the sounds of god knows what filling the air. It frightened her, and soon she opened her golden eyes for the first time, taking in a heaving, shaky breath.

It was so bright at first, and she blinked quickly, trying to adjust. As her virgin eyes adjusted to the sights around her she saw an old man kneeling before her on her running board, his jaw slack with amazement as he stared up at her. It occurred to her that he was who had been talking to her before she woke up, and she felt something warm settle inside of her, her eyes softening.

Bringing a hand up to stroke his fluffy white beard he smiled, his blue eyes glazed over slightly, "My goodness gracious, you are beautiful, my dearest poppet. Such eyes! Like pools of liquid gold," he reached up then to rest a weathered hand on her cheek, his eyes filled with pride, "You're the most beautiful engine I've ever made my dearest 2631."

She blinked in surprise, opening her mouth to speak, but only a hoarse cough escaped her. She tried desperately to speak again, eager to respond to him. But suddenly a loud, resounding crash filled the air followed by shouting, causing her to cringe back in fear.

The old man's face instantly twisted with anger, and he turned to roar at the workers on the other side of the workshop, jabbing a finger at them, "Oi! Keep that bloody noise down, you incompetent buffoons! You want to scare us all to death?!"

Turning back to her he touched her cheek again, smiling reassuringly, "It's okay poppet, easy there. How you feeling? Would you like a name?"

Trembling lightly she breathed deeply, allowing herself to calm down once more before trying to speak again, "Who…who are you? Where am I? What am I? May…May I have a name?"

The man chuckled quietly, smiling fondly, "My name is Samuel Johnson, and we're in the Derby Workshop. You my poppet, are a Midland compound engine, the very first of your kind! I designed you, and as such, I will name you," he looked over her thoughtfully then, intelligent blue eyes scanning over her pretty face and livery before settling on her eyes again, "How does Ivette sound to you?"

The name seemed to strike a chord inside her, and she felt herself tingle with joy, a wide smile spreading across her lips, "Yes, yes! I want to be an Ivette, oh please Mr Johnson!"

Johnson chuckled at that, shakily stepping down from her running plate, "I thought so, it fits you nicely my poppet. Are you ready to go out and be a really useful engine?"

The engine swallowed at that, unsure of herself and clearly anxious. What was an engine, and what was she supposed to do? How could she be useful? Looking around she didn't think she looked like anything there. In fact, what did she look like? Biting her lip she turned her golden gaze back down to her creator, her expression pained, "I don't know how to be an engine Mr Johnson…"

She couldn't help but cast her eyes down in shame, but she blinked in surprise when the elderly man burst into a fit of laughter, holding onto one of her lamp irons for support, "My dear, you will learn! You haven't even been steamed yet! You just wait right here, I'm going to get your crew and an engine to help bring you to the turntable." He gave her side a gentle pat before turning on his heel and heading off to the far side of the workshop, beckoning to some other men she hadn't noticed to follow him.

At first she felt horrified by his departure, calling out to him and struggling to follow, rocking herself forward slightly. But she felt so stiff and heavy that she could only stare down at her front in disbelief. How was she so heavy? And so big! Or why were Mr Johnson and these other men so small? So many questions sprung forth, jostling for position in her smoke box, but there were too many and they just made her feel dizzy.

Shaking herself Ivette took the time to examine her surroundings, golden eyes watching the world curiously. She saw more men bustling about with tools and equipment, but she had no idea what any of it was or what they were doing. They seemed to be working on large iron things but she couldn't tell what they were. They seemed to be as big as her though and that was something at least.

After a few minutes the engine heard the unfamiliar sound of chuffing for the first time, and her eyes widened as she caught sight of a small tank engine, bright green eyes meeting shining gold. The little engine was a dark blood red, with black and gold lining along the edges, with the number 1541 standing out in shining gold numbering on her side tanks. There was an intricate and colourful crest on the side of small cab, and Ivette wished more than anything that she looked this wonderful. She realized with a start that all the colours were her favourite, and she wanted to look like this girl.

"I love your colours!" she couldn't help but blurt out, smiling wide. The little tank engine rolled back a little in surprise, looking up at her with wide eyed astonishment.

"You…you do?" her green eyes practically shone with happiness, and Ivette could only watch as the little engine began to babble, "Oh I love these colours too! And you look so beautiful in them miss! We've waited so long to see you, I'm so happy they finished you up! Mr Johnson looked the youngest he's been in years, he was so delighted. My name is Cynthia, what's your name? I'm a class 1377 tank engine here on the Midland Railway."

Ivette watched her as she babbled, her eyes wide with rapt fascination. The childish engine's happiness was contagious, and she felt a bubble of excitement well up inside her, threatening to burst forth and make her giddy, "My name is Ivette. So I look like you? That's wonderful! What class am I?"

Cynthia giggled, blushing, "No silly, you don't look like me! You're much bigger than I am, and more splendid. You're a Midland Compound, like Mr Johnson said, and you use steam _twice_! It's amazing!" the little tank engine was practically bouncing with excitement, "You're going to be a passenger engine! Oh, I wish I could be a passenger engine."

She blinked then, astonished. So this is what engines looked like, and what was a passenger engine? Whatever it was, it was making Cynthia glow with pride and excitement, her happiness seeming to spread throughout the room. She wondered if anything could deflate this excitable little engine.

"I'm sorry, I should be taking you to be steamed! Don't want to keep your new crew waiting," Cynthia suddenly burst out, blushing shamefully and flashing a nervous smile as she approached her, her silver buffers coming to rest against Ivette's. Two men hopped down from her cab, coming around to couple the two engines up. As one of them went round to what she could only assume was her own cab she realized they must be Cynthia's crew. She didn't understand the relevance of them until she felt the man's hands grab a hold of her brake leaver and push it down, and just like that she realized she could move, although only slightly. Her eyes widened in astonishment, but she didn't have the time to say anything.

"Right, let's go!" the portly man cheered as he hopped down from her cab, making his way over to Cynthia, "Let's get this big girl to her party sweetie."

"Yessir!" Cynthia called back, and as the men entered her cab again Cynthia began to pull back, tugging Ivette along the rails with her. Alarmed, the newborn felt herself begin to move forward, her parts making loud sounds of protest as they moved for the first time. It felt so strange, moving without any effort on her part, and it almost made her panic. But Cynthia gave her a reassuring smile, her childlike face beaming up at her.

"It's okay, we're almost there. It always feels like this the first time!"

She was certainly right, for soon they pulled up onto a circular platform built into the ground, with a single rail going down its center. Gold eyes looked around as she was uncoupled from Cynthia, and in no time she spotted Mr Johnson standing off to the side with two men, chatting to them and gesturing towards her. She was so focused on them that she almost didn't notice herself turning, and she let out a sound of alarm as the room began to turn, her view changing.

Cynthia merely giggled before backing up onto another line, leaving Ivette alone on the turntable. The table began to rotate again, and the Midland Compound blinked in surprise as she turned to face the outside world, looking up at the cloudy skies. The yards outside looked gloomy, but she really couldn't care less.

Tearing her eyes away she looked down just in time to see Mr Johnson and the two men approach her, her smile matching theirs, "Will I get to go outside?"

"Of course!" Mr Johnson boomed, patting her running plate, "We'll get you all fired up in no time. First, let's get you introduced to your crew."

At that a tall man stepped forward, his brown eyes warm and friendly. He had dark brown hair cut short, with tanned skin and dark stubble on his jaw and chin. It was clear he smiled often, his demeanour happy and carefree. The second man stepped forward as well, much shorter than his companion and much gruffer, with messy auburn hair and a shaggy beard. But he seemed just as kind as the other man, with bright blue eyes and crow's feet at their sides.

"Hello darlin'," the first man called, smiling up at her, "My name's Booker, Booker Steele. I'll be your driver, and this man here is your fireman, Augustus McRae."

Augustus tipped his hat to her, flashing her a wink, "It's a pleasure to meet ye lass!"

She smiled back, looking between them with excitement and rapt fascination, "My name's Ivette! I'm so happy to have a crew!"

Both men chuckled, smiling up at her fondly. Augustus threw her a jaunty salute, grinning, "Aye lass, and we're mighty proud te be ye crew! Ready te get fired up?"

"Oh yes please!"

Without much more delay her crew went around to her cab, followed by Mr Johnson as he watched over the proceedings. Ivette's firebox was filled with coal for the first time, and she felt them fiddling around, her body practically trembling with excitement. Her crew checked her water levels and upon confirming that she'd been filled prior to her awakening, they happily lit her fire. Ivette felt the warmth and heat spread through her, and within minutes her eyes widened as steam flowed into her cylinders, bursting forth around her. She felt the life giving steam rush through her, burning like liquid fire, and she couldn't help but burst into peals of laughter, revelling in the life she felt. Her crew cheered with her in delight, and Mr Johnson patted her side, smiling like a proud father.

"That's my poppet. Let's go! You've got a whole world to see."

Beaming with excitement the maroon steamer moved forward of her own accord, marvelling at the sound of her own chuffing. It was musical and quiet, unlike Cynthia's much louder chuffing, and when she enquired about it Mr Johnson informed her that compounds were quieter because of how they used their steam. It made her feel prouder than ever, and she moved a little faster, steadily picking up speed.

They left the gloomy yard and headed out onto open railway, all the while Ivette learnt about her surroundings and the different tasks she and her fellow engines would perform. As she steamed along she spotted other engines in the same livery as hers, their red bodies gleaming in the half-light. They whistled to her in greeting, and to her surprise she knew how to whistle back, not hesitating to blast out a happy greeting that she found to be entirely unique, unlike any of the others that she heard. Her whistle was a musical, happy sound that rang out around her, not overly loud or quiet. It felt just right for her, and she found she loved the way it expressed so much about her and her mood.

Soon she raced through the open countryside, and she felt a warm, weathered hand pat her cab, her creator speaking to her with a voice filled with pride, "You'll be amazing my poppet, just you watch. Tomorrow we'll send you on your first run, and you'll soar down the mainline for all to see, to be admired by the people of the Midlands. And your sisters will be awake soon too, just in time for you to teach them all you'll know."

His words made her whistle in enthusiasm and delight, and the sun finally peaked through the clouds to bathe her body in warmth giving light. Her whistle roused the birds from their trees, and she exulted as they flew up into the heavens, chirping amongst them as they danced high above for her. She watched them rise higher and higher, and she too felt like she was flying, twirling and beating her newfound wings, free of inhibitions, blissfully ignorant and in love with the world and life. Life giving steam flowed through her like fire, setting her ablaze, and before she could stop herself she let out a long, bubbling cry of joy, soaring down the line like a shining phoenix, her frame glinting in the afternoon sunlight.

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><p><em>And so the phoenix was born from ashes and the dreams of men, and a burst of fire was breathed into her, bringing life to her and setting her ablaze. She spread her wings and took to the air, tentatively at first, but the wind on her feathers and the sunlight on her fiery wings brought joy to her, making her heart swell, and she called out to the world below and her fellow fowl, urging them to rejoice with her, to dance in the heavens and revel in the wonder that was life. And all the while she burned with newfound fire, flames engulfing her but never burning her feathers. It was the very essence of her, and it made her glow with iridescent beauty.<em>

_And though her flame would be her pride and joy, and though it would light the world for many, it was destined to bring her pain as well as joy, as the phoenix is always born from ashes._


End file.
